Temptation
by Korn95
Summary: The last thing Kurt expected to find on Rachel's hen night was a gay stripper, but it would seem that Blaine is more interested in getting into Kurt's pants than any of the girls'. Just about M-rated for light smut, there's also fluffy bits and Blaine stripping.


**Hi everybody! This fic was inspired by the film Magic Mike, _very_ good film if you get the chance to see it. Mmm, Matt Bomer. It's also my first shot at writing anything even remotely lemony so please be nice and as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated. :D**

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Kurt didn't know why he was here. This was a male strip club for straight women, definitely not his scene. But Rachel had insisted that, as her Man of Honour, it was his duty to be at her hen night. He sighed again, ruffling the feathers of the boa Santana had strung around his neck. He was surprised when she had agreed to come actually but he suspected that had more to do with Brittany coercing her than a real desire to see half naked men.

Currently most of the girls were clustered around the stage stuffing dollars into the thong of a cute man with even cuter dimples. Kurt supposed he was quite attractive, really attractive actually, with his brown hair falling in waves over his forehead and a grin that could kill. But what was the point? Sure Kurt could look and enjoy, but where was the fun when he couldn't touch? The girls could run their hands down the six packs and enjoy the way those men were thrusting into their faces, but Kurt knew if he went down there he'd get a dirty look and the cold shoulder. It put a slight downer on the night when people kept casting you confused looks and whispering behind their hands. So Kurt stayed in his dark corner, finding any flaws he could in the strippers on the stage and fixating on them. Anything to keep his mind out the gutter.

The song playing overhead ended and the man on stage swept up his fedora, throwing the crowd a cheeky wink before disappearing behind a curtain. The girls all returned to the table, fanning themselves and chatting excitedly, Mercedes babbling on again about how Sam still has his stripper abs.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself just as much as me." He could easily recognise the dry voice from behind him.

"Neither of us really belong here Santana." He spoke into his drink, keeping his eyes on the stage

and the shadowy figures rearranging the scenery.

"Oh Kurt, at least you like what you see. That guy that came on second looked like he could kill somebody with one arm. Yuck."

Kurt turned to look at her leaning over the railing behind his chair, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"You afraid of a little cock Santana?"

"I'm sure his cock is tiny with the amount of steroids he must take. Anyway, I'm outta here, gonna try my luck in a club with fewer naked men. Tell Brits I went home if she asks. Not that she will."

Kurt tried to ignore the pain in her face as she gazed over his shoulder, but it was there in her eyes, twisting her mouth. He grasped her hand briefly as she stood to leave, getting eye contact before he spoke.

"She doesn't know what she's doing."

"Yes she does." She tugged her hand away, ducking through a doorway before he could say another word.

Sighing again for an entirely different reason he turned back to the rest of the girls, glad none of them had noticed Santana leave. He returned Rachel's glassy smile though, taking in her pupils, blown from all the shots she'd done.

"Having fun?" He chuckled, her head nodding sloppily in response.

"I want-" She paused to hiccup, seeming to lose her train of thought for a moment before continuing "t'live here!"

"Sure you do Rach, sure you do."

She was about to reply when the overhead announcer came on again, turning and screaming in the direction of the stage instead of continuing the conversation. Kurt took another sip of his drink, caught between amusement and annoyance, and wondered if maybe he would need something a bit stronger to get him through the rest of the night.

The announcer finished and the lights dimmed and Kurt set down his drink, folding his arms over his chest and hoping this new guy would be as ugly as stripper number two. Kurt had to agree with Santana, that guys muscles had been scary.

Unfortunately, no such luck. The curtain at the back of the stage was ripped aside with a flourish revealing a man in loose yellow pants with red suspenders over a white tank top, all capped off with a yellow hard hat and heavy black boots. The fireman stripper may have been a cliché but it was still hot as hell. _Find a flaw, any flaw_, Kurt thought, but his mind was a little numb and refused to cooperate.

The man threw aside his hat, hooking his thumbs into the suspenders and looking up at the crowd. Kurt's breathing cut off. It wasn't the man's strong jaw line or full lips that paralysed Kurt's lungs, although they helped, it was his eyes. Piercing and obviously golden, even from this distance, they flicked up under his fringe of dark curls and scanned the crowd, pausing briefly when they reached Kurt and darting away again. Kurt guessed he was uncomfortable performing in front of a man and he almost considered leaving when the man spoke.

"Is it hot in here ladies? Or is just me?"

"It's you!" Rachel cried from her chair to the left and just in front of Kurt, and he almost face-palmed right there.

"Well ladies," the man continued to the general screaming of the crowd, "I heard a rumour that we have a special guest here tonight. It's her last night of freedom and we're gonna help her enjoy it!"

Rachel was practically vibrating in her seat in anticipation. The man leapt off the stage, ripping off his shirt as he did and pointing a finger at Rachel, grinning and nodding his head when she did a sly 'Who me?' kind of gesture. She was ever the actress and Kurt shook his head a little at her theatricality.

Music started thumping over the speakers when he reached their table. The man tugged out Rachel's chair to face him and rolled his body in her direction.

Kurt bit back a whimper, already half-hard from this little show. He pushed a hand into his crotch, biting his lip hard and crossing his legs. Why did he wear such damn tight pants?

The man ripped off his pants to reveal a tight black thong and Kurt almost cried out loud, watching as he then slung his legs over the sides of Rachel's chair and sat in her lap, making her squeal delightedly. Kurt could have sworn the man's eyes flicked up to his as he sat down and it caused his cheeks to flush. He was glad for the semi-darkness, hopefully both his red cheeks and the arousal in his pants were in too much shadow to be seen.

The man in Rachel's lap started grinding on her, rolling his body in the most delicious way and Kurt let his eyes trail up from his hips to his stomach to his chest and finally his face, startled to find his hazel eyes trained right on his own face.

Their gazes locked as the man rolled his body again, holding the eye contact and sending thrills down Kurt's spine. He was painfully hard now and he pushed his hand harder into his crotch, praying that the pain would ease up a little. The man noticed the movement, his gaze sliding down Kurt's body to his lap and a slow grin spreading across his face. Kurt was shocked by his reaction. He didn't appear to be disgusted or horrified but Kurt guessed maybe he was just keeping up his game face.

He snapped back to attention as the man stood up and, to his disbelief, cast him a quick wink. He then turned his attention back to Rachel, offering her his hand and carrying her bridal style to the stage where he continued to grind and thrust in various ways.

Kurt couldn't take his eyes off him, enjoying the way his muscles tensed and rippled, and by the time he left the stage, with another piercing stare in Kurt's direction, Kurt was unconsciously rubbing at his pants, his stomach clenching a little as his memory filled his vision with golden eyes and dark curls.

He didn't notice Rachel sitting back down next to him, but she noticed him.

"Did we enjoy that little show?" She giggled, leaning into him and grinning with unfocused eyes. He stopped immediately, realising the way he was pressing at his pants was hardly appropriate and looked away, flushing hard with what little blood hadn't rushed south.

"Fuck off, Rach." He joked but she was barely listening, already screaming for the next stripper.

For Kurt the rest of the show passed in a blur of muscles and thrusting and remembered hazel eyes. The girls screamed and threw money but Kurt couldn't focus on any of the other strippers, not that he really wanted to. They weren't as sexy and perfect as the curly-haired wonder and that was all that occupied Kurt's mind. It was useless of course, Kurt couldn't help but remember that this was a straight strip club, but surely a fantasy couldn't hurt.

Eventually the last act was finished, a group performance, the duration of which Kurt kept his eyes glued to the gyrating body of his Mr Wonderful, and the girls around him gathered their things, preparing to leave. They were all supposed to be going back to Rachel's for a hen night sleepover but Kurt knew his dreams tonight would be less than innocent and he didn't very much fancy trying to deal with his morning wood in Rachel and Jesse's new house. No, he wanted to go home, indulge in some very x-rated fantasies and get some sleep after such a stressful night, especially as the wedding was tomorrow and he would be in control of pretty much everything.

With that in mind, when they reached their cars, Kurt pulled Rachel aside.

"Hey, Rach, I'm not feeling too well, I think I'm gonna head home. We've got an early morning after all." He grinned at her, pretending not to notice the knowing glint in her eye. It wasn't difficult considering how out of focus her gaze was. He never had figured out how she saw through him so well, even when she was completely hammered.

"Sure Kurt, you're 'not too well'." She made quotation marks around the words and waggled her eyebrows before shoving his shoulder. "Come on Kuuurt! You have to come and celebrate my last night of freedom. I promise not to make you kiss anybody."

Kurt smiled a little at her words and grasped her shoulders.

"Go home Rach, get some sleep so you're awake to say your vows tomorrow."

"I'm getting married." She stated unnecessarily, and Kurt placed a fond kiss on her forehead.

"Yes you are. Now give me your phone so I can set an alarm."

She pulled back and rummaged in her little sequined handbag, brow furrowing as she checked again.

"S'not here." She whined and surrendered the bag to Kurt so he could look for himself. It wasn't there, just like she had said.

"You must have left it inside then." The car beeped behind them and Mercedes leaned over Quinn out the driver's window.

"Are we going or what? 'Cedes wants get her party on!"

Kurt let out a sigh. He seemed to be doing that a lot tonight.

"Rach, you go on ahead. I'll find your phone and drive myself home. You can have it back tomorrow."

Rachel agreed easily enough. Pliable in here state of inebriation, she let Kurt steer her towards the waiting car and load her into the back with Tina and Brittany. He slammed the door shut, patting the car and watching it pull out of the parking lot.

He shook his head as he turned back to the low building. It was probably best that Rachel didn't have her phone with her right now. For some crazy reason she still hadn't deleted Finn's number and although she was way over him now he still didn't trust her not to try once again to apologise for their messy break up.

Emerging from a dark hallway he entered the main room. Most of the lights were off and all the glamour was gone now the crowds had left, but Kurt found their table, spotting Rachel's phone sitting next to her empty glass. He grabbed it quickly, turning to leave when a voice rang out from the stage.

"I noticed you, ah- enjoying my performance earlier."

Kurt knew who it would be even before he turned around. Even his voice was perfect. Melted butter to match his eyes. He turned slowly, allowing as much time as possible for the blush to subside.

"Oh, hi."

He was standing at the end of the stage, dull lighting showing him to be wearing baggy sweatpants and a white tee-shirt. His hair was loose from the gel it had been held in earlier and it curled a little around his ears and over his forehead. Kurt imagined running his fingers through it and bit his lip, fingers tangling around Rachel's phone instead.

"We don't get many guys in here. Mostly cougars and brides. Much like your friend." He nodded to the chair Rachel had occupied half an hour earlier, smiling slightly. "But you seemed to be enjoying me as much as she was." He grinned cockily and Kurt flushed yet again.

"Yeah well, half-naked man grinding in front of me..." Kurt mumbled, trailing off and staring at his shoes. They were Alexander McQueen, some of his favourites.

"Well either way, I'm sorry to be such a tease. Maybe I could help you with your frustrations?" His voice was unmistakably suggestive and Kurt swallowed hard, arousal already pumping through his veins.

"I don't- I mean, er..." He stammered, trailing off again as the man jumped off the stage and pulled his shirt over his head, much slower than he had done for the women.

Kurt was frozen in place, eyes dancing over the man's chest and arms and face, unable to decide where to settle. Eventually hazel eyes caught blue and their gazes locked, Kurt quickly becoming the deer in headlights.

The man continued to saunter forward until he was right in front of Kurt, and pushed him lightly on the chest. Kurt stumbled back a step and his legs hit a chair. He sat heavily, eyes never leaving those of the man before him.

"I think I owe you a lap dance. It's the least I can do after leaving you so hard earlier."

Kurt gulped as the man came right into his personal space and spread his legs either side of the chair.

"I'm Blaine, by the way." He added before slowly lowering his hips, excruciatingly slowly.

"Kurt."

Kurt's breath was starting to come a bit shorter and he was already getting hard again even though the man - Blaine - had barely touched him.

"Nice to meet you Kurt." Blaine put his hands on Kurt's shoulders, pushing him back into the chair as he rolled his body, Kurt biting his lip as he watched Blaine's abs flex.

Kurt was getting harder by the second, and with Blaine grinding down in his lap he was finding it harder to bite back the moans forming in his throat. It wasn't long before Kurt had had enough of being passive. He was allowed to touch now and he would make the most of it.

Lifting his hands he placed them on Blaine's chest, biting his lip at the feel and glancing briefly at Blaine's face the ensure it was okay. Blaine just grinned at him, pushing down hard and causing Kurt to dig his nails into Blaine's skin, raking them down his chest just hard enough to leave faint marks. Blaine hissed in response and Kurt could have sworn it was one of the hottest noises he had ever heard. Continuing on his downward path, Kurt ran his hands over Blaine's thighs. Although they were still covered in material, Kurt could feel the muscles in his legs and a light shiver ran down his spine.

But he was bored of the teasing and grinding. It was unsatisfactory to say the least and Kurt wanted more. More contact, more friction, just more.

Sliding his hands back up Blaine's chest he looped them around his neck, tugging lightly to pull Blaine down to him. When they were close enough together he leaned in. Blaine seemed to hesitate for a moment before their eyes locked and he pushed forward, sealing their lips together.

The kiss overrode everything else. Blaine forgot to grind and just pressed into Kurt's lap, their chests coming together as Blaine wound his arms around Kurt's neck and pulled him close, pushing his tongue into Kurt's mouth as Kurt splayed his hands on Blaine's lower back, fingers pressing into the skin.

One of them was moaning and Kurt thought it might have been him but he wasn't really stopping to analyze the situation. Blaine was starting to grind again, pressing hard into Kurt's lap and Kurt could feel the bulge that told him Blaine was enjoying this just as much as he was.

He pressed harder into the kiss, hands coming to rest on Blaine's hips and pulling him down as Kurt bucked up off the chair. The resulting friction made Blaine groan into Kurt's mouth and Kurt couldn't help a small grin of success. Unfortunately this effectively ended the kiss and Blaine pulled back, breathing heavily and stopping his grinding, though leaving Kurt's hands resting on his hips.

"Well I just broke rule number one." Blaine ran his hands over Kurt's chest before looking up again and smiling.

"Rule number one?" Kurt quirked an eyebrow.

"Never kiss the customers." He smirked. "But then, you're not really a customer are you?"

"I'm not? Well what am I then?"

"You're sexy, and you're funny," Blaine slowly leaned in till he was growling in Kurt's ear, "and you're really fucking hard for me."

Kurt's breathing stopped as Blaine kissed his ear, slowly working his way down Kurt's neck to suck at his only-just-exposed collarbone and causing Kurt to drop his head back in pleasure.

A sudden bang of something falling had them both looking round in the direction of backstage.

"Shit." Blaine muttered. "They're still here."

"M-maybe we could continue this back at my place?" Kurt suggested tentatively. He wasn't really sure how into this Blaine was. Whether this was just because Kurt was there or whether he was actually committed to getting into Kurt's pants.

Blaine turned back to look at him, still sitting in his lap and a slow smile spread over his face.

"Sounds like a very good idea Kurt." The way Blaine pronounced his name raised goose-bumps on Kurt's skin and he pressed one more kiss to Blaine's lips as the man stood, keeping his head down to prolong the kiss.

They held hands as Kurt dragged Blaine out to the parking lot, fumbling with his keys once he found his car. Blaine wasn't helping, running his hands over Kurt's sides and stomach and pressing up close to his back so Kurt could feel his erection against his ass. It was very distracting but eventually Kurt got the door open and Blaine left him to go round to the passenger side.

Kurt was sorely tempted to speed on the way home but he knew that wouldn't be a good idea, especially with Blaine rubbing a hand along his thigh. He kept his gaze straight ahead, biting his lip in an effort to hold his focus on the road.

They'd been driving for about ten minutes when Kurt spotted the familiar head of long black hair by the side of the road. Whatever he was about to say faded from his mind as he pulled the car over to the side of the road and rolled down the window down.

"Santana?"

She turned to face him and he almost recoiled in horror. Santana was a mess. Her make-up was smeared over her face, her hair bunched and frizzed, and he thought maybe that might have been sick in it.

"Jesus, Santana, what have you done?"

"Fuck off, Kurt. I'm fine."

It was then that Kurt noticed the tears running down her cheeks and the blotchy red skin under the mascara. And the way she couldn't seem to focus on him.

"Shit." Kurt muttered and turned to look at Blaine who was watching him with a furrowed brow, his hand still resting tentatively on Kurt's thigh. "I'm so sorry, but I can't leave her here."

With that he leapt out the car, reaching Santana just as her legs gave out and only just managing to get his arms around her waist as she collapsed into him.

He had never realised just how awkward it was to try and hold up a human. He was strong for sure, but he didn't know how to handle all her limbs. She was so leggy and with her head lolling around he was worried about her choking or something.

Suddenly Blaine was there, scooping his arms under her legs and back and lifting her up, cradling her head against his shoulder. His eyes locked with Kurt's for a second, conveying a kind of understanding that he was going to help Kurt out here instead of just running away and Kurt gave a small thankful smile.

"Can you get the door?"

Kurt shook his head briefly to clear it before muttering a quick 'Yeah, sure' and hurrying to open the door to the backseat. Blaine lowered her in carefully, setting her in the recovery position and checking her pulse before pulling out again and softly shutting the door.

"She'll be alright. She's off her face but she should be able to sleep it off. And she'll definitely need some asprin in the morning, probably best if you combine it with some domperidone for the nausea." He avoided Kurt's gaze the whole time he spoke, choosing instead to watch some people down the street.

"Sure. Erm, how do you know-" Kurt trailed off, pointing in Santana's general direction.

"I dunno, um first aid." It sounded more like a question but Kurt didn't want to push it.

"Oh, well thanks." The air was suddenly very awkward, Blaine scowling down the street and Kurt wondering what he was supposed to say now. He'd never done anything like this before and now that it had gone wrong he was completely out of his depth. "Um, I'm sorry about all this. I wish we could still... yeah, but I couldn't leave her."

"Oh no, I understand. Honestly, it's fine. I guess I should find a taxi or something."

"Or I could give you a lift home, if you want. I mean-"

"That would be great." Blaine smiled, his face softening immediately as he looked back at Kurt.

Nodding to himself Kurt got back into the car, waiting until Blaine had buckled himself in to pull away from the curb.

"So, where am I taking you?" Kurt checked his mirror quickly, taking a moment to make sure Santana was still breathing before returning his gaze to the road.

Blaine ignored the question though.

"Was she with you earlier?" His gaze was trained on Santana in the mirror. "She looks familiar."

Kurt shocked himself by realising he hadn't yet thought about Blaine's sexuality. He thought he must have been bi, working in a straight strip club but still trying to get into Kurt's pants, and felt a slight stab of jealousy that Blaine might prefer Santana over him.

"Yeah, she left though, just before you came on."

Blaine nodded taking in this information.

"I think there's a chance she may have taken something worse than alcohol. She's too drowsy. Maybe I should stay with you guys. For my, um, first aid training." Blaine's eyes were locked on the road ahead when Kurt glanced across at him, and Kurt wondered briefly who he really wanted to stay with.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds like a good idea. I don't want her getting hurt." Kurt wasn't really sure what was going through his head but he just knew he really didn't want to leave Blaine on some anonymous doorstep that he would never see again.

Now he knew his destination, Kurt sped up a little and they reached his apartment in no time. Blaine carried Santana, holding her effortlessly while Kurt fumbled through his keys, hoping he had remembered to tidy up his breakfast plates before he left.

Once inside he led Blaine through to his spare room where Santana was laid on the bed. Blaine left quickly while Kurt pulled off Santana's dress and tucked her in under the sheets, grabbing a cool, damp cloth and pressing it to her forehead, using it to try and wipe away some of the make-up.

When Santana looked slightly less dead and slightly more asleep Kurt left the room, finding Blaine in his living room flicking through his latest copy of Vogue.

"So, what's the verdict doctor?"

Blaine flinched like someone had shot him, and turned to face Kurt.

"What did you call me?"

"Erm, doctor?"

Blaine sighed heavily and turned away, swallowing visibly and seeming to shrink in on himself a little. He was worlds away from the confident man Kurt had seen strutting down the stage and grinding into Rachel's, and his own, lap, and Kurt felt much less intimidated without the testosterone pumping through the air.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend you. Do you want a drink or something, or I can drive you home?"

Blaine ignored Kurt's babbling and turned to him with a calm expression.

"S'fine. How's your friend?"

Kurt was slightly shocked by the abrupt change in Blaine's demeanour but he didn't comment on it.

"I think she's alright. She's asleep at least. Is that safe?"

"Should be. She hasn't thrown up for at least twenty minutes so she probably won't till morning when the hangover hits her. If it's okay with you, I'd like to be around for that. I'm still not certain she hasn't been drugged."

"You- you want to stay the night?" Kurt's voice trembled a little causing Blaine to look round at him.

"Yeah, if it's alright with you."

"Oh, yeah, sure. I mean, it's fine with me, I just wanted to be sure that's what yo-"

"Thank you Kurt." Blaine cut him off with a sly grin, saving Kurt from further embarrassment.

"So, I can take the couch if you like, or if you prefer to be nearer to Santana... I" Kurt trailed off again. For some reason the image of Blaine grinding into his lap was replaying behind his eyelids and making his blood run hot and fast. The alcohol in his system was helping his body react without his consent and Blaine seemed to be noticing the small changes in his demeanour.

Now that Santana was clearly not about to die, the earlier lust was beginning to creep back in between them. Kurt could see it in the darkening of Blaine's eyes as they swept over Kurt's body, the way he bit lightly on his bottom lip before looking back into Kurt's face and standing from the couch.

"You said your friend was asleep?" Blaine's eyes were glued to Kurt's mouth as he moved slowly closer.

"Yeah." The word was barely a breath, Kurt also mesmerised by the dark colour and dull shine of Blaine's lips.

"Good." Blaine closed the now small gap in one step, tugging Kurt into him with a few fingers in his waistband and pressing their lips together hard. Blaine quickly won the fight for dominance of the kiss, pressing his tongue into Kurt's mouth as the taller man surrendered with a moan. Kurt was happy to let Blaine take control. He'd never done anything like this in his life and his brain was still trying to get around the fact that he could want someone so bad after knowing them for a matter of hours.

"Can we take this upstairs?" Blaine muttered against Kurt's lips, kissing him again when Kurt tugged hard on his hair.

Kurt's reply was breathless and he struggled to pull himself away, but he managed to lead Blaine up the stairs to his open plan bedroom, a railing all that separated it from the open space above the living room.

It seemed to take much too long to reach the bed, and they both lost their shirts on the way, along with their shoes and Blaine's left sock.

When they crashed down onto the bed Kurt took control, straddling Blaine's hips and pinning his wrists to the pillows as he nipped his way up and down the tanned column of Blaine's neck, pausing to lavish kisses just under his ear.

There were moans and breathless gasps filling the air and Kurt was so hard it hurt. He could feel Blaine in the same situation from the hardness pressing into his thigh and almost cried in relief when Blaine's hands slipped free from his grasp to slide down his stomach and tug at the button of his pants.

"Blaine" Kurt grunted as Blaine pulled uselessly at the material of Kurt's pants, his palm rubbing roughly at Kurt's cock through the material as he tried to peel Kurt's skinny jeans away from his hips. Kurt flopped onto his side, helping Blaine to remove his pants, leaving him in just his boxers as his jeans disappeared over the side of the bed. He made a mental note to fold them later before quickly becoming distracted by Blaine's hands running over his thighs, burning through the thin material of his boxers, pulling him desperately closer.

Their hips pressed together, the friction making Kurt hiss as Blaine made little noises in the back of his throat, uncomfortable in his jeans but unwilling to take his hands off Kurt for even a second. Kurt was having a similar problem, his fingers exploring the toned expanse of Blaine's stomach, roving back to cup his ass and pull their hips tighter together.

Blaine had reattached his lips to Kurt's neck and used them as compensation for removing his hands to fumble with his jeans, at last pulling them off and kicking them onto the floor. He also managed to remove his other sock with one foot, rolling his body on top of Kurt's and pressing his hips down.

Now they were both in boxers the heat between them was unbelievable, radiating from everywhere their skin touched. Kurt could also feel how hot and hard Blaine was in his boxers. He'd never been so turned on by frotting but he knew he could cum easily with just a few words from Blaine.

"Kurt, please... can I?" Blaine's fingers were dancing around the edge of Kurt's boxers, begging for permission, but suddenly Kurt was thinking about Santana and how she was passed out and possibly drugged and just downstairs and he couldn't go all the way.

"No, Blaine just, please... I'm so close, just...please." Kurt let his legs fall open, wrapping his calves around Blaine's back and holding him close.

Blaine didn't complain. Pressing his thumbs into Kurt's hips he led a trail of desire from the waistband of his boxers up to his chest, kissing Kurt with an open mouth and grinding his hips down.

Kurt whined loudly into Blaine's mouth, pleasure tingling through his whole body, and tried to thrust his own hips up to meet Blaine's.

"Come on Kurt." Blaine broke off the kiss to growl in his ear. "You're so hard, won't you come for me?" Blaine's hands were everywhere, stroking along his thighs, rubbing over his nipples, and Kurt could barely breathe through the pleasure.

Blaine's movements became more erratic, his hips pressing down so deliciously hard that Kurt thought he could see stars, and the building coil of burning tension in his stomach broke, sparks flying through his body as he came into his boxers.

Blaine followed shortly after, Kurt's cry of his name sending him over the edge so he stilled, hips still locked together as more heat spread in the already burning space between their bodies.

"Shit Kurt." Blaine let his weight drop onto Kurt and it was so worth the discomfort in his boxers to hold onto the warmth for just a little bit longer. Blaine was planting soft, lazy kisses over Kurt's face and neck, stopping when their heart beats had returned to normal and a drowsy contentment had surrounded them.

Blaine rolled off onto his back, lying shoulder to shoulder with Kurt and watching him from under dark eye lashes.

"Well my shifts at the club don't usually end like that." Blaine's tone was light but his words hit Kurt hard. Of course this was just a fling for Blaine. He probably did this all the time and he was just being ironic. They'd known each other for mere hours, how could Kurt have expected this to mean anything to Blaine?

"Oh right." Suddenly Kurt felt awkward, lying next to this man who was obviously trying to think of any excuse to leave. "I guess you want to be off then?"

Blaine's demeanour changed immediately. Sitting up, he twisted to face Kurt, his brow furrowed and mild horror in his expression.

"Kurt, I may be a stripper but I'm not a whore." Kurt sat up slowly. "I don't just sleep around. Sure we jumped into bed pretty quickly but from the moment I first saw you I just felt so..." Blaine buried his hands in his hair, grappling for the right words. "I've never felt like that before. It was like my whole body was on fire, and then I saw how much you were enjoying yourself" he smiled wryly in Kurt's direction, "and I swear it was the hottest thing I've ever seen. Until just now, that is, when you came without me so much as touching you."

Kurt could barely believe his ears. Sure, he'd been subconsciously fantasizing about Blaine staying till morning and then helping him make breakfast and maybe just spending the day in bed, but he had never really expected it, it just seemed too good to possibly come true.

"Is that all this was to you? We get off and then I'd be gone by morning?" Kurt's heart broke a little bit at the pain in Blaine's voice.

"Of course not Blaine. I thought that was what you wanted. You said this was a shift and so I just assumed..."

"Oh Kurt, I was trying to make a joke." Blaine fisted his hair in his hands before dropping them, choosing instead to pick up one of Kurt's and lace their fingers together. "To be honest, I haven't done something like this in well... ever. I definitely would have asked you out like a gentleman if we'd met under different circumstances, but as it was my restraint just wasn't good enough. Do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

Kurt blushed, looking down at their hands and feeling a little smug at how perfectly they fit together.

"Sorry Blaine. I shouldn't have made the assumption."

"It's fine." Their eyes met as they both looked up tentatively, but it was Kurt who leaned forward, slipping his hand round to cup the back of Blaine's neck and bring their lips together.

They settled back down on the bed, Kurt draping himself across Blaine's chest, as if still worried that he might try to leave.

"Why don't you work at a gay strip club?" Kurt hoped his question wouldn't upset Blaine, but he couldn't curb his curiosity any longer. Blaine chuckled a little.

"I never really intended to be a stripper. I..." Blaine paused taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling. "I spent three years training to be a doctor."

Kurt knew his mouth had fallen open but couldn't remember how to close it until Blaine looked back down at him, his chin now resting on his arms, which were folded on Blaine's chest.

"Yeah, I know." Blaine gave a dry chuckle. "I don't seem the type. It was my Dad's idea. _Go be a doctor. Do something with your life._ So I did. I couldn't stick it though. After three years I was about ready to top myself so I just dropped out. I didn't tell my dad and I still haven't heard from him after ten months. I just packed my bags and left. It took me about a week to find my brother Cooper and then it was just a matter of me getting so low on cash I had no choice but to join him in the club. I started off just helping out on the door or the bar or whatever. But then one of the guys knocked himself out with a horse tranquilliser and I was the only one available to take his place. Coop just kind of threw me onto the stage and told me to dance." Blaine smile wryly at the memory. "It definitely could have gone a lot worse."

"Wow." Kurt exhaled, thoroughly shocked by Blaine's back story.

"Ha, yeah." Blaine seemed to find Kurt's reaction amusing. "It's not a bad job to be honest. It doesn't even matter that I'm gay. So long as I have good abs and better dance moves I make a decent amount."

Kurt took in this information carefully. He hadn't considered that Blaine may not have planned to be a stripper, he had just kind of assumed it was the job he'd been aiming for. But then, what child dreams of becoming a stripper? He also felt a strange sense of relief and satisfaction at the knowledge that Blaine was gay and had absolutely no sexual interest in Santana.

"It's quite a jump from training to be a doctor to becoming a stripper."

"Oh no, you've got to understand," Blaine's tone was somehow both urgent and sincere, "stripping isn't what I am, it's just what I do. A way to raise money."

"Well, what are you then?"

Blaine bit his lip, a low blush creeping up his cheeks as he trailed his fingers from Kurt's shoulder to his elbow.

"I'm erm-" He cleared his throat quickly, eyes flicking down for a second. "I'm a musician. I play mostly guitar and piano, but also the violin and the drums. And I sing. I wanted to do it professionally, it was part of the appeal of coming to New York, but it hasn't really worked out, as you can see. I've done a couple of small gigs that payed but I haven't really been able to get my big break." He smiled ironically at the words but Kurt barely realised.

He couldn't believe what he had done. He had found a gorgeous, single, gay man who sings, plays a variety of instruments and is also able to give a killer lap dance. He also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and to top it off, he was half naked and in Kurt's bed.

"I'd like to hear you play sometime." Blaine scoffed at the prospect.

"Sure." The word was draped in sarcasm.

"No, really." Kurt protested "Everybody loves music and you can't be that bad if you think you could do it for a living."

Blaine gave a shy grin, glancing down in a modest, self-conscious kind of way that made Kurt want to kiss him silly.

"What about you Kurt?" Blaine changed the subject abruptly. "What do you do?"

"I design." Kurt smiled at the thought of how well his life had turned out. "Mostly clothes but I made a pair of curtains once."

Blaine joined his smile, lifting his hand to run his fingers carefully down the side of Kurt's face, his gaze following the path he made.

"I'd like to see one of your outfits sometime."

Kurt laughed at his quote, turning his face to press a kiss into Blaine's palm.

"I wanted to act for a very long time. Broadway." He spoke the word with a kind of exasperation. "That was always the dream. But then I didn't get into the right college and so I turned to fashion, my back up plan. I'm so glad I did!" Kurt let out a sigh, pushing himself up to press his lips back to Blaine's. The kisses were like a drug, the more Kurt got, the more he wanted. And with Blaine's hands burning against the skin of his lower back it was hard to resist.

They kissed again for a while, not really going anywhere, just moving their lips together in a way that stoked the glowing embers of desire in Kurt's belly.

"I'm starting to think you didn't come here to keep an eye on Santana." Kurt joked when they separated.

Blaine's eyes were light with humour but there was something more smouldering underneath.

"Are you questioning my professionalism?" Blaine rolled them both onto their sides, dancing his fingers up and down Kurt's side and making him squirm. "I came here to watch over a woman who needed my help, it's not my fault you distracted me."

"Are you complaining?" Kurt pressed up against Blaine to make his point, loving the way Blaine's eyes rolled back into his head a little bit.

"But seriously, why did you stay? When I found Santana." Blaine pulled back a little, confusion evident in his expression. "I mean, it kind of ruined the atmosphere and well, it was a massive cock-block."

"Kurt, I don't think I ever intended for this to be a one night stand. I didn't have a plan yet when we left the club but I'm pretty sure I would have found some excuse to stay with you for, well, as long as I could really. You make my chest hurt in a way I don't understand and the thought of leaving you and not seeing you again, it just..." Blaine was clearly struggling for words but Kurt didn't care. This was possibly the most romantic thing that anyone had ever said ever, and it was for him.

Before Blaine had a chance to even try to finish his sentence, Kurt launched himself. Pushing to get every inch of his body pressed up against Blaine as he crashed their lips together, the kiss hard and hot and curling heat through Kurt's gut.

Eventually the making out slowed. The bed was warm and soft, and with Blaine's body twined with his like it was, Kurt quickly found himself drifting toward the edges of sleep. There was a very comfortable nook in between Blaine's shoulder and neck and Kurt buried his face there, breathing deeply. He could feel Blaine relaxing beneath him bit by bit and it tugged him further into that intangible space between sleep and waking. In this state he couldn't trust his senses, his brain already half gone, so he couldn't be sure he really heard it.

"I think I love you."

* * *

**Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews would be extra-specially helpful cos I don't know whether I should post a second chapter for the next day or if it's better if I end it here. What do you guys think?**


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